May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor
by Flightless503
Summary: Alois Trancy, a frail and malnourished orphan from District Twelve, is tossed into the Hunger Games along with twenty-three other children - including a posh, ready-to-fight boy from District One by the name of Ciel Phantomhive. When you're battling for your life in such monstrous games, anything can happen, but can love? Collaboration between Flightless503 and blockworld!
1. The Infamous Orphans

** I'm sorry this is so late _ This, for those of you who don't know, is a collab fanfiction I'm doing with Blockworld! :D Life just kinda ran away and I was so wrapped up in it that I never thought to do this =_= I'm so sorry DX But here it is, chapter one, I hope you enjoy! :D **

**OwOwOwOwOwOwO**

"You'll be okay," Alois insisted, holding his brother by the shoulders and shaking him gently. "You'll be fine, they'll never ever pick you."

"But what if they do?" the little boy sobbed, spilling more tears than he wiped away.

"They _won't_, Luka!" The blonde shook him again. "Your name is only entered once, it's impossible that they'd pick you." His brother let out a few indiscernible cries of protest before he was enveloped in an embrace. "Listen to me, Luka. I've kept you safe ever since mom and dad died, haven't I? I don't plan on stopping."

The younger boy slowly quieted, his face pressed into Alois' shoulder as he trembled with weak sobs.

"Now come, we need to choose your outfit for the Reaping." He placed a small kiss just behind his brother's ear, pulling away and smiling reassuringly at him. "You're going to be okay, no matter what happens, I promise you."

They touched noses, as they had always done, before Alois stood up from his kneeling position.

Alois and Luka Trancy were the infamous orphans of District Twelve. Everyone knew them – but not everyone liked them. T o be honest, _no one _liked them. Alois never knew what they had done to deserve such neglect from the people their parents had always been ready to help and serve, but now the people had turned on them, as if they were _nuisances_.

Alois was fifteen years old, but it was hard to tell when he was standing next to his younger brother – they were almost the same height. The other boys often made fun of him for this fact – he was small, slender, and feminine. He couldn't help that they were jealous of his looks – or that was what he often told Luka. He was born with a curved waist, slim legs, dainty fingers and long lashes. He couldn't help that. His hair was white-blonde and cut in a way that roughly framed his face, though one often couldn't tell; it was tousled to the point of always looking like bed-head and the grime and coal dust had tainted it nearly black. His eyes were an electric blue color that scared away anyone who chanced a second glance, and he was an _expert _with knives. Throwing knives, cutting knives, butchers' knives, you name it, he could use it. This hidden talent gave him hope that if he was ever selected to be in the Hunger Games, he just might have a chance. But Luka… he was practically helpless. The little boy was even smaller and frailer than him, even if he _did _get the larger portion of food Alois brought back to him. And on top of that, Luka wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone a person. If he was selected in the Hunger Games, he surely wouldn't come back alive.

Alois shuffled through the small closet he shared with his brother, and removed a wrinkled white dress shirt along with black pants. They hadn't been black at first – living in a district of coal miners often did that to clothes.

He handed the two articles of clothing over to him. "Here you are," He said. "You've already had your bath, haven't you?"

"Yes, Alois."

"Good, good." He turned away from the closet and pulled a small iron tub from the place they always kept it, just at the foot of their bed. "I need to take mine, then."

"Hurry, big brother." Luka said, pulling on his trousers. "We have to leave in twenty minutes to make it on time…"

"I know." Alois moved to the stove – also in the same room – and put a kettle of water on it. "Hurry up, old thing." He grumbled. "I need warm water." Luka sat on their bed, fully dressed, watching his older brother move the kettle of now steaming water to the tub, pouring it in. He politely avoided his eyes as the blonde undressed and scrubbed himself down, even remembering to get the dirt out from under his fingernails. He cleaned grime from his face and washed the dirt and soot from his hair, exposing its natural golden color. Once he was noticeably cleaner than he had been earlier, he rummaged in the closet and removed his own white dress shirt and pants, pulling them on. The shirt was beginning to grow tight on him; it hugged his waist slightly, showing off the curves he hated with a passion. It was small, but it would have to do. They _had _to dress nice for the Hunger Games.

He combed his hair back before moving to Luka and doing the same, making sure no hair was out of place on his brother. Then, taking two ribbons from the closet, he tied a bow neatly around Luka's neck, before tying his own. The younger of the two had to reach up to straighten the elder's bow, and Alois let him.

"We best be off then, shouldn't we?" He held out his hand to his younger brother, who took it and stood up, taking a deep breath. "Everything will be okay." The blonde promised again, kissing Luka's forehead. "Everything will always be okay."

The two brothers left their one-room house and joined the throng of others heading to the main hall for the Reaping. They were separated by age, of course, so Luka and Alois exchanged quick hugs and kisses before departing to join their age groups. Alois was greeted by the usual jeering of other boys, which he promptly ignored with gritted teeth. Luka was met with the quietness of children who'd had their names entered in for the first time.

There was tension in the air – everyone could feel it.

After the crowd had settled down, the Viscount of Druitt flounced up on the stage, taking the microphone in hand. "Welcome everyone!" He called cheerily. "Happy Hunger Games!" he was met with the expected silence, but didn't seem fazed at all. He was particularly obnoxious to Alois, who hated the Capitol fashions. Today the Viscount sported long golden hair done up in some strange bun, and an extravagant dress shirt complete with sequins and feathers. His trousers weren't much better.

In Alois' opinion, he looked absolutely garish.

After a small and utterly obnoxious opening speech (which included Druitt snapping snazzy poses for the cameras, which would inevitably replay this depressing occasion to all of Panem), the Viscount waved his hands over the two glass balls filled with slips of paper. "And now," he called, "The moment you've all been waiting for!" He drifted over to the ball on the right. "Ladies first," he cooed, digging his hand deep into the ball of girls' names. He unfolded it with nimble, painted fingers, then called out a name, "Hannah Annafeloz!" Alois raised an eyebrow. She'd be tough – Hannah was a girl you didn't mess with. She was a seventeen year old monster. Beautiful, yes, but also deadly. There wasn't a soul in District Twelve who wasn't afraid of her, except for her boyfriend, Claude, of course, even if some people murmured that he really _was _afraid of her but wouldn't admit it.

Alois snickered. How childish.

Hannah pushed her way to the front as one of the boys leaned over to Alois and whispered, "Too bad you weren't picked, Trancy."

The group behind him laughed cruelly, but Alois only avoided their gazes. He _wasn't _a girl, _that's _why he wasn't picked out of the girls' bowl.

"Ah, Hannah, how splendid!" Druitt crooned, reaching out to take her hand but she jerked it away with a sharp glare. The Viscount only smiled and moved on. "The boy's bowl, then!" Alois' heart thundered in his chest. There was no way it was Luka, that just wasn't even a possibility.

Druitt reached his hand into the bowl, snatching the slip of paper just resting at the top of the pile. He unfolded it deftly and cleared his throat before reading the name aloud. "Luka Trancy!"

Alois' heart stopped.

**OwOwOwOwOwOwO**

**Alright, blockworld, now you can jump in! I was thinking you could write Ciel's part and I'll write Alois' although I think that could get confusing once they start interacting with each other… but for now I think it should be split up, and when they come together, we'll see what we can do from there X'D **

**Hope you liked it! Reviews are greatly appreciated! **

**Huggles,**

**Emzi**


	2. The Great Phantomhive

**Hello again! Emzi here bringing you chapter TWO, written by Blockworld! :3 It's excellent! Really it is! It means I've got to start writing again! X'D Please enjoy it! I know I did! I CAN'T WAIT FOR CIEL AND ALOIS TO MEET UP O.O - **

"Are you ready?"

Ciel finished adjusting his suit and smoothed the wrinkles on his jacket, gauging the time left on a mental scale. About thirty minutes left. It'd probably take ten to get to the city square, leaving roughly twenty minutes. Not that it mattered—all the shops were closed today, doors locked, and streets abandoned. Of course they would be.

Today was the day of the Reaping. Everyone between the ages of 12 and 18 would be gathered in the center of the city, divided by gender and separated by age. There were already booths being set up for bets. The Reaping was a day celebrated by everyone in District 1. It was the day a lucky boy and girl would be chosen to participate in the Hunger Games.

"Of course," Ciel said finally, glancing at the elderly man standing by the doorway. "We have to hurry. I don't want to be late."

Tanaka smiled back at him. "Excited for the Reaping?"

Tanaka was Ciel's legal guardian, and had been since the day his parents died in a fire. He could still remember it; the flames devouring the house, his neighbors holding him back as he watched his home burn down–along with his parents. While being an orphan could have made him an easy target for taunting and disgust, Ciel managed to strut out of the tragedy being one of the best-looking boys in District 1, and one of the most loved. They were gone now; there was no point in grieving. He didn't have time for that.

"Not at all," Ciel replied, sounding bored. "It's the same thing every year..."

"Do you think District 1 will win again?"

"I suppose." He buttoned up his shirt and fixed up his collar. "We most likely will. It'll either be us or District 2."

He smirked. _But when I volunteer, we'll definitely win._

Of course, he had to finish his training first. Like many others in District 1, Ciel had a trainer, Charles Grey, who helped him prepare for the Games and worked with him almost daily. Ciel was an expert with swords and could kill anything in close proximity. As far as he was concerned, nobody else was a match for him.

He picked up a black bow splayed across his pillow and tied it neatly around his own neck. Then he turned to look at himself in the full-length mirror. He was slim, with pale skin and silky navy blue hair that fell neatly right below his ears. His eyes were a deep blue, one that made girls swoon and boys scowl in jealousy. The color even matched his Reaping clothes—a dark blue suit built with a shimmering fabric, covered in sequins and frills.

He knew he was handsome—after all, that's what most girls at school would say in between bouts of giggling and gossiping. He was fine with the attention, he actually enjoyed it. But he wasn't interested in going out with any of them. All the girls were shallow and spoiled, and their good looks were never enough to outweigh their annoying personalities.

"Ciel," Tanaka said. "Would you like a small snack before you go?"

The young man turned away from his reflection. Tanaka was watching him, his silver eyebrows furrowed in worry. Ciel scowled. There was nothing to worry about. This year he was fifteen, which meant his name was put in only four times. As a citizen of District 1, he didn't need to put his name down any more times for food or medicine; he had plenty of that already. It was more likely that one of the older guys would get chosen.

"No, I'm not hungry at the moment." Which was true. The day of the Reaping was one exciting enough to keep away his appetite. "But you can prepare me a meal for after the ceremony."

Tanaka crossed the room from the doorway and stood behind Ciel, smiling sadly. "Very well then." He paused, looking at Ciel's reflection. Ciel stared back indifferently.

"You look just like your father."

Ciel felt his jaw clench, but struggled not to let his discomfort show. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he turned away from Tanaka.

"So what?" he said sharply. Why now? Of all days, why today? He took a deep breath and started for the door. "I'll see you after the Reaping."

But before he could walk out, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ciel turned to face Tanaka, whose eyes held a haunted quality.

"Good luck, Ciel," he said quietly.

The anguish he always tried to bottle up began to rise in his chest and choke him. Ciel shook his head slightly and, for a moment, almost hugged Tanaka. But he didn't, and with a final nod, he went out the door.

-

The Reaping was buzzing with excitement. Everyone fussed over the soon-to-be contestants, exchanging bets and wonders on who the next tributes would be. There were camera crews perched on every corner and a large stage temporarily built at the front.

Ciel filed in silently and got in line with the other fifteens. One of them glared at him as he approached. Ciel stared back, his eyes challenging, until the boy finally averted his eyes. Good. He had better things to do than worry about these morons. Ciel straightened to his fullest height, watching the other boys take their places. None of them looked particularly worried—but that's to be expected, since usually the eighteen-year-olds volunteer. He turned to focus on the stage where two large glass balls sat, paper slips lying at the bottom. Only four had Ciel Phantomhive written on them. And even if he was chosen, somebody else would volunteer.

He could only imagine the horror that the other districts would feel when they watched the recap of District 1's reaping, knowing what they'll be facing in the arena. He smirked. How pathetic.

It's no big mystery that District 1 will win this year. They win almost every other year, if they aren't upstaged by District 2. But District 1 has the best Careers—older tributes who train their entire lives to compete in the Games. Ciel would be one of them once he turned eighteen. Admittedly now, he wasn't skilled enough to fight.

The mayor took his place at the front of the stage, and everyone quieted. Well, mostly everyone. There were still some excited whispering and hushed laughter scattered across the crowd. One of the boys next to Ciel started muttering about the new escort.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the mayor said, his voice booming. "I'd like to welcome you all to this year's Reaping. But before we begin, the Capitol has an announcement to make." He cleared his throat. "In order to make the Games more interesting, the Capitol has decided that this year, Districts 1, 2, and 4, will not be allowed to have volunteers."

_What?_

There was a shocked silence. Suddenly, the crowd plunged into frenzy. No volunteers? But there were so many trained eighteen year olds ready to fight. Now everyone was stuck with the possibility of an unskilled 12 year old going to represent their district. How were they going to win now?

All the boys around Ciel were hysterically expressing their shock. Now there was a real reason to be scared. But he forced himself to keep a neutral face and stare straight ahead. He couldn't allow himself to seem weak or stupid like all these other morons, especially in the face of immediate danger. In his head he repeated the mantra, _"My name is only in there four times."_

After the crowd had settled down, the mayor spoke. "Now that that's out of the way, let us begin recounting the history of the Hunger Games."

Despite everything, Ciel rolled his eyes. _Here we go... Another speech._ They did this every year, yapping about the history of Panem and the Districts' rebellion against the Capitol. This made a new law pass, one to keep all the Districts in line. The Hunger Games. Every year, a boy and girl would be picked out of each district and sent to an arena to fight to the death. Blah blah blah. This wasn't particularly new information.

He stared out at the others, colorfully dressed and well prepared. Everyone looked shaken, especially the 12 year olds. Now they all knew there was a possibility any of them could get sent off to the arena. He also noticed that some of them didn't look fazed at all; they probably thought they had enough skills to win even without completing their training. It's amazing how stupid some of these people could be.

Finally, the mayor finished his speech and went to sit down. The escort, Angelina Durless, strutted to the microphone. She was a tall woman, with short blood-red hair and a matching sequined dress. Actually, everything about her was red–her lips, her shoes, her eyes, her jewelry. Ciel had to admit he was somewhat impressed by the fashion.

"Welcome," she said brightly, "ladies and gentlemen of District 1. That was a surprise, wasn't it? But now, it's time for the most important part."

She beamed at the crowd, unfazed by their silence. Then she said, "May the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

It was time for the drawing.

Angelina crossed over to one of the glass balls. Her fingers dipped into the heap of papers, red nails swirling them all around before snatching one at the bottom. Everyone was silent.

She went back to the podium and opened the slip of paper. She brought a gloved hand to her mouth and cleared her throat, before reading the name out loud.

"Elizabeth Midford."

The crowd of girls slowly parted, revealing a blonde girl buried in the arms of an older brunette. Ciel's heart sunk. Elizabeth Midford. He knew her. The goldsmith's daughter– and his only childhood friend. She was present in the majority of his childhood, always innocent and cheerful. They used to be very close— that is, until his parents died. After that, he shut her and many others out of his life. They hadn't spoken or even looked at each other since the funeral, and that was three years ago.

He watched as Elizabeth tore herself away and shuffled over to the stage, eyes wide in horror. She had hardly grown since the last time he saw her, and now she was fourteen. It was obvious that she'd be one of the first to die.

"Right over here, dear," Angelina said, moving Elizabeth to stand on her left. Elizabeth's eyes were glimmering with tears. That wasn't smart of her. The other districts would later be watching this, and even the weaklings from District 12 would see her as an easy target.

"Now, time for the boys!" Angelina crossed over to the second bowl. "This will be exciting!"

Ciel tore his eyes away from Elizabeth and focused on the boys that surrounded him. Usually one of the older ones would try to fight for their place in the Hunger Games. But now that none of them could volunteer, someone weaker would be chosen. Maybe, by a stroke of luck, one of the eighteen year olds would just happen to get chosen. He hoped. District 1 had to win this year.

Everyone was silent as Angelina reached into the ball and pulled out a random piece of paper. She smoothed it out, smiled, and called into the crowd.

"Ciel Phantomhive."

**There you have it! :D Brilliant, isn't it? ;3 please review! We'd both LOVE to hear your thoughts! I **_**know **_**she would! ( Especially considering how much she fretted over her writing! X'D TELL HER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE IT! ) Expect chapter three up at… I dunno, sometime…? X'D Just warning you – I have this fic, When You Fall in Love With Fear, And To Think I Hardly Knew You, AND my Leviathan fic Of Clankers and Beasties to update – Not to mention I have two Halloween pictures planned AND schoolwork, AND a Deryn costume to put together *_* Please be patient! X'D UNTIL NEXT TIME! **

**Huggles,**

**Emzi and Blockworld**


End file.
